First off, I'm not a bad dog owner and Stella's not a bad dog. She's lived in 6 different houses with Jordan and I, including a very small apartment in New York - where to pee, she had to take an elevator, walk about a quarter mile and be accompanied by a cranky human who had probably worked 12+ hours straight. She now has a yard, fence and two small children to love on her.
So...
Thank you, Stella. It's been a tumultuous morning. Jordan left early for a long work trip, and thanks to your whimpering, I was awake with him at 6 am. We found ourselves in the bathroom together - I with a sinus issue manifesting in my eyes, nose and throat, and he with what appears to be the first signs of a poison ivy invasion across his body. Without your subtle, high pitched squeals, I never would have been able to confirm Jordan's self diagnosis, nor make him aware of how miserable I was feeling. Incidentally, we both agreed to ignore our medical dilemmas until, at least, Sunday.
Thank you, Stella for consistently peeing in the same spot on the kitchen rug. I know to avoid that area and if I would've taken that route to serve Frank breakfast, I may have knocked down the Elf on the table, revealing she never made it to the north pole and back last night, crushing Frank's bubble of Christmas magic.
And lastly, Thank you, Stella for walking slowly away from me as I quietly and frantically washed bottles before Margo awoke from her nap. I then noticed the extreme amount of fecal matter stuck to your tail and body. Had I not noticed, you would have gone to get your rabies shot tonight like a total street urchin. I would not have had a good reason to throw away the dull scissors I used to clip your nether regions. I would not have had a good reason to bleach the entire kitchen. And lastly, I may not have had the immediate motivation to shower today.
You really do know what a girl needs, Stella. Thank you.
